Silberblut
by XorianGeth
Summary: Norta and the Lakelander's war rages on, Red blood spilled by Silver hands. Reds are used to being puppets by their Silver overlords to do work and fight the war. However, an unseen force soon comes to the shores of Norta, sure to rock the balance that hangs cautiously. [Heavily AU. Custom characters and an entirely new faction/world.]
1. Chapter 1 - A New Dawn

**Somewhere in Norta**

 **31st Recon Battalion**

 **PFC. Hans Kalif**

The squad moved through the bush slowly. Grass folded underneath heavy boot as they soon settled down amongst the sloping hills of the countryside. Private First Class Hans Kalif clutched his service rifle, a Volksgewehr-86. The rest of the squad was in various states of watch, a handful of riflemen, the squad lead, a anti-tank specialist, the squad's designated marksman, the communications officer and the support gunner. They were light infantry from the 31st RB that had been deployed to the unknown shores of the old American continent. It had been hundred of years since the last European feet touched the old soil. Now they were advancing in land with the various other light recon teams scouting out the new land.

Hans' train of thought was interrupted abruptly by the squad lead, Terna "Damn it, think we gone off-pace. At this rate we'll be off the damned grid." He shook his head while he adjusted his helmet with one hand and clutched his VG-86 in the other. The communications officer moved over towards Terna, his caseless GMP-77 in hand before he spoke. "Sergeant? We are a recon unit, I don't think base will mind if we do a bit of extra exploring..." Terna peered to the communications officer before huffing. He gestured to turn around with his hand before he reached for the radio handset on the back.

"Zero-Alpha this is Three-Echo. Message, over." Terna fumbled with his vest pocket as they waited for a reply, he pulled out a folded up piece of paper and unfolded it to reveal the map within.

"Three-Echo this is Zero-Alpha. Send, over."

"Zero-Alpha, this is Three-Echo. We're currently at Golf Romeo 5-3-1, 6-2-6. I say again, Golf Romeo 5-3-1, 6-2-6. We're about to go off our current path in to a unknown grid. We're going to advance and report in anything odd. How copy? Over."

"Three-Echo this is Zero-Alpha. Copy, proceed with caution. Over."

"Zero-Alpha this is Three-Echo. Wilco. Out."

Terna placed the handset back with a click, before folding the map away and tucking it in to their vest pocket. Hans idly shuffled on the spot, coughing in to his hand. The ache in his muscles from crouching unmoving started to settle in uncomfortably before he shuffled on the spot. Terna spoke once more, "Squad. Form up, staggered file, advance."

The trip was spent in mostly silence, the occasional rustle of foliage and the semi-common branch. Hans debated the current situation in his head. The old continent hadn't been explored since the original bombs and here they were at last, the 31st leading from the front. They weren't sure what to expect. The plant life was growing back quite abundantly and there was a lack of major radiation pockets. There might even be life somewhere in the huge stretches of land but they had failed to find any in their initial landing. Still, they had dedicated the entire brigade, a minor fleet and a air-wing to the expedition. There was even the 93rd Panzergrenadier Division in reserves should the need arise.

So why was there that lead-in-belly feeling that refused to budge? Had they forgotten something in their planning? Did something await them? Hans didn't know but he could not shake the feeling that settled deep within his person.

They carried on regardless, passing over hill, bush and shrubbery alike. Occasionally they stopped for a drink and rest amongst the shade of tall trees. Every hour on the dot, Trena would make a status report back to Zero-Alpha. Hans was glad that he didn't have to carry the heavy long-range radio at least. He sipped from his canteen as he stared out at the sun-baked soil from under the rim of his helmet. It tasted cold and relieved the dryness in his throat. Soon after he placed it back at his hip.

After many hours of trekking through bush, they came across something out of place, voices. Faintly in the wind they heard shouting and screaming. It wasn't in German, but rather English. Of course the squad knew both but it was rare to hear English being spoken out loud. That could only mean one thing. Terna called for the squad to halt at the lip of the next hill. Hans laid down, peaking his head over the top along with the rest of the squad. The soil remained the same old sun-baked terrain that it was, but it was tiled open as the hill sloped. Small leafy crops sat amongst the rows. At the bottom of the dip was a road, various shacks occupied along the area, a small village of sort.

What caught the squad's main attention however was the current scene unfolding down at the street below. There were several people in brown clothing and rags, one was a young child who was currently kneeled over on their hands and knees. There was a smaller group, men in white uniforms with black helmets and vests. One of them was standing over the child with a baton in one hand. Even from the hill they could hear the man audibly sneer, "Fancy yourself a pick-pocket, red rat?" The air itself cracked and snapped as the baton came down hard against the child's back, a cry ringing out in the air.

"Christ, Sergeant..." one of the riflemen in the squad murmured lowly. Hans' fingers tightened further around his VG-86 at the scene. The cries rose higher and higher as the uniformed man beat the child over and over with the baton. Terna stared, adjusting his collar as he peered to the rifleman who spoke. "You know we can't get involved...first encounter with the locals and we're going to go down and gun them?" The scene below intensified, the child being forced lower and lower to the ground with each swing.

One of the others in rags, a woman with similar facial features rushed forward trying to protect the child. However, the man smacked her across the face with the baton, sending her stumbling to the floor next to the child. "Got some bite in ya?" was his only verbal jab at the woman before he kicked her in the face. The screams rose higher as the child wailed at the pain and the sight before them. A splatter of crimson red spurted out and leached in to the dirt road. The boot came back down, sending more crimson out. Again, and again the man rotated between kicking the woman in the head or beating the child.

"Sergeant, we have to do something, they're going to kill them!" Terna stared down at the scene, peering back to the rifleman, then back to the scene as if contemplating the situation. Finally after several tense seconds, he sighed and whispered out, barely audibly. "Heinrich, get a shot lined up. Put one in his shoulder, we don't want to be killing anyone..." The squad's designated marksman raised his rifle, a old scoped G50 before he took aim. The rest of the squad followed suit just in the event they were fired upon. Terna breathed out shakily, "Heinrich. Fire at will."

Chaos erupted, the uniformed man howled and dropped to his knees, clutching his shoulder. Instantly the rest of the uniformed men snapped towards the hillside. Three in total, not including their wounded comrade. One of them reached for a holster and drew a black pistol. Suddenly, heat roared up as the edge of the hill erupted in a fireball, embers flying in to the air. Terna's voice was barely audibly over the crackling as gunshots added to the commotion as the pistol wielding officers opened fire. "Pull back, pull back!"

Hans got to his feet with the rest, scrambling back just as another fireball flew over head and reduced the tree branches above him in to cinders. Rapid footsteps were audible dead ahead as they pulled back. Seconds later one of the uniformed men moved over the hill-lip. A black pistol in one hand, and, in a split second later, a fireball in the other. Hans reacted instinctively, opening fire with a burst from his VG-86, the rounds hitting true and causing the man to go tumbling back down the hill as they connected with his vest.

Another passed over the hill seconds later as Terna yelled "Damn it, don't shoot to kill!" The new uniformed combatant raised a hand, a large root from the ground shot up and tapered, spearing in to Terna's arm with a crack. The communications officer raised their GMP-77 and let loose. The 12mm caseless rounds shredding the combatant's legs, forcing them to tumble forward. They bled, hard. Hans stared as he moved back, his eyes wide in shock as...silver fluid squirted from the wounds. Silver blood?

The last armoured combatant came over the hill but made no effort to pursue the squad as they retreated, opting instead to pull the silver-blooded bleeding man out of view back down the hill.

Hans could only stare as he breathed harshly, his rifle still raised as him, and his squad rapidly withdrew from the area.

 **Somewhere off Norta's Coast**

 **State Security Service**

 **KNV _Neu Zeit_**

 **Major. Viktor Tallows**

Viktor stared over the folder on the table with a sigh, he folded his arms and shook his head while speaking lowly. "They found locals and decided their first interaction was to shoot them?" he reached down and picked up one of the folders. One of the soldiers across the table spoke. "Yes, sir. The recon team claims they acted to save a civilian and had to use force."

Viktor peered up, arching a eyebrow. "I doubt half of the things they reported on. Silver blooded soldiers capable of firing fireballs from their hands and use roots who's favourite past time is to beat children on a hot day?" He shook his head again while peering down at the typed report before tossing it down.

"With all due respect, sir. The surgeons spent quite a long time getting the root out of the team's sergeant. It was embedded deeply, more than if you simply fell on it." Viktor peered up, rubbing his chin before peering back down to the map of the coastline. He pointed down firmly on the lone dot on the coast, the forward operating base. "Tell the 93rd they will be deployed to FOB Sidewinder. They will assist the 31st in fortifying their position. We can expect a possible counter-attack from the actions that the team performed so we should be ready. Have the 93rd also prepare a QRF in case any of the teams from the 31st are attacked again. That will be all."

The sound of shuffling feet and papers were audibly as the soldier replied once more, "Yes sir!" before they scampered off. Viktor, now alone, slowly turned towards the window and stared out across the vast blueness towards the land mass in the distance.

"What world lays uncovered for us ahead?"


	2. Chapter 2 - Gunboat Diplomacy

**FOB Sidewinder**

 **31st Recon Battalion**

 **PFC. Hans Kalif**

The Forward Operating Base was in a state of constant motion and action. Hans sat to the side of one of the tents, his helmet resting to his side, his ballistic vest unbuttoned and his VG-86 field stripped in front of him. The 93rd was rushing about the area along with elements from the 31st, helping fortify the beach-head. He picked up one of the pieces from his rifle, making sure no sand was in it before he brought up a rag, starting to polish the component.

Sergeant Terna had nearly recovered from the incident a few days ago. Until he was, the squad had been posted at the Forward Operating Base. Occasionally as he polished his weapon, a tank or half-track would pass by loaded with soldiers and supplies. From one end of the shoreline to the other, the 93rd and 31st had dug in trenches, sandbags, barbed wire, and various other elements to help fortify the beach-head.

Hans' VG-86 was starting to look quite polished as he moved from piece to piece with a rag and polish in hand. The rest of his squad resting inside the tent to his right. A jeep sped past, its 30 caliber machine gun mounted on top but unoccupied. He brought the pieces back together, slotting them in place as he reassembled the rifle. Soon enough it was finished and looking better than ever. Hans flipped open one of the magazine pouches on his vest and swiftly slotted one into place in the rifle. Pulling back the cocking handle, he was met with a satisfying click.

He set off towards the squad's tent, peeling back the flap. Terna was sitting up against one of the bed-racks and was currently field-stripping a GMP-77, he had opted for the lighter weapon with the shoulder injury as the recoil had less of a bite than the VG-86. The rest of the squad was lounging around in various states of alertness and readiness. Terna's shoulder bandage was stained light red from the wound that had started to rapidly heal, thankfully the unit had a large stock of medicine and supplies for any incidents on patrol.

A loud siren pierced the air and Hans' thoughts. He instinctively clutched his rifle tighter, Terna stood and yelled as he drew back the bolt on his submachine gun. "That's the perimeter alarm. On your feet, come on!" Terna and Hans quickly made their way out into the sun as they left their squad behind to prepare. A jeep buzzed by, before Terna raised an arm. The driver, upon seeing the sergeant stripes, stopped the vehicle. Quickly Terna grabbed the side of it and raised himself up to the driver.

"Are you heading to the breach?"

"Aye, Sergeant."

"We'll need a lift."

With that, the two scrambled into the back of the vehicle. Soon after the rest of the squad rushed out of the tent and spotting their squad lead inside, followed after. Once everyone was in the jeep, Terna banged the side of the jeep and they were off. It sped along, twisting and turning around tents and other structures dotting the sunny sand. Hans clung to the rails on the side to prevent himself being flung as they sharply turned. The .30 Calibre gun rocked back and forward wildly as they moved. They overtook one of the main battle tanks as it lumbered towards the front of the FOB.

The front was a chaotic mess. The siren blared overhead still as infantry threw themselves into the trench network and behind sandbags, tanks, and armored transports moved themselves into the dug-outs and the machine gun mounts were brought to the front. They screeched to a halt at the line.

 **Nortan Coastline**

 **Copper Legion**

 **2nd LT Jezka Farluq**

Jezka breathed slowly to himself as he felt his own blood – silver blood – pump through his veins at an increased rate. He was assigned to this legion, a small one, to hunt down some Scarlet Guard rebels in the nearby forests that had attacked an officer patrol earlier in the week. They were expecting a few red rats to be dug into one of the forest floors or even a cave-base, but this? This was not what the Guard did. The sight ahead of him was startling, unknown, and nerve-racking. A large chunk of the beach had been reinforced, with guns, armed men, armored transports and tanks. The Guard wasn't meant to have armor support.

He ordered his transport to a halt, any closer and they might just get shot at. Jezka leaned over to the driver, "Get the Reds to the front of the convoy." before he opened the side door and scrambled out, one hand on his holster, the other pulled his cap on tightly. Several men in similar but less stylish uniforms rushed past with rifles in hand. They crouched in front of the lead transport and raised their weapons towards the fortified beach.

Storming forward, he made his way to the second truck in the convoy and clambered on to the side. Leaning into the front he ordered, "Get word back to Archeon that there is an armed force down here. They'll need to send us another legion if they attack." With that, he hopped off the lead truck and moved towards the front. Far ahead he could see various people in woodland garb, the textures almost bending and moving at this distance. He noted the many guns and armored vehicles pointed at him. Just who were these reds?

By his own birthright, he should crush them where they stand, shoot or hang them for even daring to think of raising a hand, much less doing so. But, here he was, outnumbered and outgunned. What could he do, retreat? No, it's doubtful they would allow such an action. Fighting was always an option, no matter how bleak the outlook was. Diplomacy? Talking, with red rats? It hurt his pride to consider an idea, but it was always an open route. He doubted that they would throw themselves at his feet like many other reds did in the past.

One hand still on his holster, he called out "Halt! Advance, and be identified!" The line ahead appeared to be unmoving beside some shuffling from the rear as more men and vehicles moved to reinforce it. However, several long moments later a group of individuals weaved their way through the barb-wire and towards the convoy. The lead one carried some light weapon, a red-stained bandage over their shoulder. There were several others with longer weapons behind him as they advanced.

The individual spoke swiftly, as if he had _authority_ over his betters in front of him. "Sergeant Terna, 31st Recon Battalion. Identify yourself." Jezka stared at the man, mulling over what was said. A sergeant, low rank. 31St? Must be other units, a semi-decent number judging by the provided identifier. He peered over the man, woodland uniform, a helmet, and some form of compact rifle. "Second Lieutenant Farluq, Royal Nortan Army. You have some questions to answer, sergeant."

"I owe you no answers, Lieutenant. But I will for the sake of civility."

"Don't speak of civility like you mean it, Red."

"Red? I assure you, there are no Bolos here Lieutenant."

"I do not know what that word means, red. Now, can you explain why you attempted to murder peace keepers upholding the law?"

"That was my men's decision to defend an innocent child, Lieutenant. We will have to wait for someone more established in rank to come to handle this entire...situation."

 **Somewhere off Norta's Coast**

 **State Security Service**

 **KNV _Neu Zeit_**

 **Major. Viktor Tallows**

Major Tallows peered up at the intrusion into his quarters. Some low ranking petty officer by the look of it. Viktor rose to his full height, adjusting his coat before speaking, "What is it?" The low-ranking petty officer shifted under Viktor's gaze before swiftly replying, "It's the 93rd and 31st, sir. They've made contact again, a convoy outside the Sidewinder. They're currently engaged in conversation and are awaiting your presence."

Viktor sprang forward, grabbing his cap from the stand next to the door, ushering the officer out quickly he spoke. "Why was I not informed earlier? Have two armed escorts await me on the pad. I'm taking the Hawk." before he rushed off. His coat fluttered behind him as he adjusted his holster to ensure the P38 inside was secured tightly. Who-ever from the earlier incident had come knocking. This was going to be a heavy-handed situation and had to be handled with tact. Of course, it was doubtful any forces on this continent would be able to stand against the Empire's strength, it always paid to be somewhat diplomatically inclined.

He climbed the stairs to the helicopter landing pad. A sleek, polished helicopter – the Hawk – awaited him, along with two men with VG-86s, and a blue camouflage scheme, a marine detachment. It was hard to hear over the spinning blades, but one clambered in while the other spoke, yelling to be heard over the helicopter. "It's all ready for you, sir!"

Soon, both the two marines and the Major were seated, and the Hawk lifted into the air. The blades slicing through with whumps. Tilting sharply, the shape of the _Neu Zeit_ started to fade into the distance as it flew over the blue waves, sending them foaming away. It took only a few minutes before they were hovering over the FOB Sidewinder. A majority of the occupants were aligned to the northern wall, in front of a convoy in the clearing. That would have to be the unknowns, surely.

Tallows leaned forward, yelling over the roar of the helicopter at the pilots, "Land us just before the convoy!" A thumbs up was his answer as the helicopter dipped upwards slightly as it descended. A shake tore its way through him as the helicopter landed with a thump. The blades began to slow down as the two marines jumped out, rifles at the ready before he followed suit.

The scene that awaited him laid ahead. A squad of recon infantry stood by a group of armed men, and what looked to be an officer. The unknown soldiers were dressed in grey uniforms with bolt action rifles, and the officer had a hand on his holster. They weren't too intimidating compared to the neat and firm riflemen from the 31st. The officer peered over to Tallows and his escort before he screamed while unholstering his firearm. "Lakelanders!"


End file.
